


The Sweetest of Sins

by snafumoofins



Category: Operation: Endgame (2010), The Tournament (2009)
Genre: Anyelle, F/M, Priest, Priest Kink, Serial Killer, blowjob, the great rumbelle blowoff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snafumoofins/pseuds/snafumoofins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hierophant has been watching Joseph MacAvoy for awhile now, meticulously attempting to seduce him from the front pew of his church during each sermon. She yearns to take care of him and have him for her own and decides to take things in her own hands during confessionals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest of Sins

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t her fault she was so smitten. _Honestly_.

She was already a holy woman. She loved her lord and He loved her too. She did _everything_ with him in mind, cleaned the streets of filth for him. The rapists, the pedophiles, the people who _fuggin’ annoyed the shit out of her_ …She was _good_.

Okay, so maybe _The Thorn Birds_ hadn’t helped the situation, but that wasn’t her fault either. It was the only movie her ma owned, the whole damn box set. Little Hierophant would watch it, the volume boosted up the entire way while her daddy beat ma senseless in the kitchen.

Daddy issues, _yes._ Mommy issues, _yeah, probably_. Priest kink? _Oh you bet yer damned ass!_

She wasn’t sane, she _knew_ that. Her psychologist had tried so hard to get her to drop _whatever_ act he was convinced she had, but he was gone now. Was unfortunate, really, that he decided to jump out the window of his own house. _She totally hadn’t pushed him or anything._

_Anyway_. She usually chose to worship at home, or the site of her kills, but she’d caught sight of _him_ at the grocery store the first time. He was so scrawny, like the puppies on the ASPCA commercials and fuck knows she bawled her eyes out at those when they popped on during American Idol commercials.

Wispy hair, streaked with the tiniest bits of gray, scruffy, gray-and-brown peppered cheeks, huge fuckin’ eyes that looked like fuckin’ honeyed tea…He was perfect. Beautiful and completely _perfect_ , but it was the priest collar that had her squeezing her fishnet clad thighs together in the checkout line. 

There’d been small talk, small talk that resulted in him speaking in that _brogue_ and oh _fuck_ her vibrator had gotten good use that night.

A Scottish fuckin’ priest. Holy and pure and clean and Scottish and so thin and scared. He _needed_ her. Hierophant could feel it in every inch of her being that this priest absolutely needed her help, needed her _love_.

With a few soft spoken words about seeking out a new church and a few bats of her eyelashes, she’d found herself invited to the Trinity Catholic church for mass on Sunday morning.

Hierophant chose to blend in on her first service with Father Joseph MacAvoy, settling for what she considered simple: a polka-dot riddled sundress and red lips.

Hiero’d proudly click-clacked her way down to the very front pew, tootsie-pop bulging against her cheek and hips bouncing with each step. She hardly glanced at the other parishioners from the cat-eye sunglasses that slid down the bridge of her nose, her eyes glued on the cross overlooking the small church hall. She sat her purse beside her in the pew, slipping one of the legs of her now folded sunglasses into the v of her dress.

That first visit had been _very_ calm, in Hierophant’s opinion. She listened to every word Joseph spoke, only moving to tug the sucker from her mouth to press it to her red lips and watch the priest’s eyes jump away from her.

He was a messiah, _her_ messiah. A sudden rush of jealously rattled up from her stomach into her chest, as she realized they weren’t truly alone.  Hierophant’s lips twitched as she glanced behind her, at the assortment of men, women and children.

She imagined herself, cutting through every single one of the fuckers, slitting their throats, choking them with her bare hands, shooting three through the head in a line…holding her priest’s head to her chest as they lay in the bloody aftermath…

Hiero jerked to attention as she heard a pause in Joseph’s soft words, noticing the priest looking to her in concern. Had she moaned out loud? She swallowed the lump in her throat, hastily shoving the tootsie-pop wrapper around the now-exposed core and tossing it into her purse, her cheeks flushed.

That’d been the first visit, anyway. Afterwards, as Joseph bid each member farewell, he caught her, just as she tried to slip past in her embarrassment from whatever noise she’d made to draw his attention. He’d taken her hands in his, bowed his head in to listen intently to her words of praise, withdrew a handkerchief when it’d just been _too fuckin’ much_ to try to express her adoration and gratitude of his services, and awkwardly hugged her before she left.

His heart had been beating like a cat at the vet’s.

Her progress had remained slow and steady, after that, Hiero attending mass in dresses that were too tight and too revealing, skirts that displayed her garters, but Joseph never spoke a word of it. He treated her the same, though his voice shook and his hands quivered when she pressed a comfortable hand to his shoulder, or teasingly patted his cheek as she giggled.

Each mass she visited, each slow, revealing hitch of her skirt as she carefully crossed her legs in that front pew, each time she licked her lips as the priest glanced to her, she made another strand of webbing for him to fall into.

One mass closer to having him, one mass closer to protecting him from the world, from the things that made him drink.

Oh, she knew. She’d known since the first mass, when she smelled the stench on his breath.

Her father’d loved the demon ales.

It was _fate_. Her daddy had beaten her ma, tried to raise his hand on her, all because of that demon ale, but now, she could help this poor little lamb of a priest _heal_.

Things sped up wonderfully the night Joseph held a small, cozy Christmas celebration in his chapel house. Hiero had chosen to forgo her usual, revealing outfits for her very favorite Christmas sweater, adorned with adorable little kittens wearing Santa hats. Hiero had sewn the pom-pom’s onto the tips of their hats herself. Only old lady Potts had come, besides Hierophant, but thankfully (after the aid of the soluble sleeping tabs Hiero had slipped into her tea), the woman had fallen asleep in Joseph’s armchair.

Joseph and Hiero had spent the evening in the kitchen, sipping wine and chatting like old friends,

He really liked her. Really, truly liked her. His face warmed when he saw her, his body leaned towards hers, even when sitting across from her.

“Wanna play a game?” she’d suggested with a coy grin, taking a bite of one of the sugar cookies she’d baked for the occasion.

“A-Ah…I suppose,” he’d replied with shy look dashing across his face.

“No, no, it’s nothin’ _bad._ It’s simple! I ask a question, you ask a question…”

Ten questions in and many more drinks of wine, and Joseph was resting his temple against his hand, looking her over like a lovelorn schoolboy. “Yer n-name…I’ve never heard anything like it…did yer parents really name ya that?” his brogue was deliciously thick by now, Hiero clenching her legs together as she smiled sweetly in response.

“No, no. I don’t like my name, never had a… _healthy_ relationship with my parents…” she feigned a sad glance, rewarded with Joseph’s calloused hand covering hers in comfort. “I really, y’know… _love_ God and I wanted to take a name that was dedicated to him. Hierophant was just _that_ …it clicked for me. Do ya…think it’s weird?”

“W-What? _Nae_!” gasped an astonished Joseph, the look of immediate disagreement on his face making her heart give a heavy flip-flop of delight.

More drinks and Hierophant and Joseph had moved to the couch, the blonde resting her temple on his shoulder. His arm was around her shoulders, his fingers gently scratching against her itchy sweater.

She was in complete bliss, looking upon the small fire blazing away in the fireplace, inhaling the sweet wine on his breath as he told some story or another of his childhood in Glasgow.

“Say, Joseph,” she lifted her head, her heavy-lidded eyes falling upon his lips for a moment. “So, you have to be… _celibate_? Or was that never a problem ‘cos you never…”

The inebriated priest thought for a long moment before shrugging lightly, “Nae. I’m not much of the average-priest, but I’ve naever had a woman show that kind of interest in-“

His words were silenced with a sudden weight against his mouth as Hiero pressed her aching lips to his, drawing back only to look at the starstruck _love_ in his eyes.

She smiled smugly, the essence of the cat with the cream before leaning in again.

He’d fallen asleep after that and she’d left, pressing a kiss to his cheek before making her leave.

The mass after that, she’d waited expectantly through the service for his usual gazes and tentative smiles, but nothing came.

He completely avoided her gaze, his sermon filled with less vigor than usual.

She tried to imagine that she was simply missing his gazes, but she’d not even glanced away from him _once_.

Dumbfounded, Hierophant had been the first to greet him after mass was dismissed, finding that things were no better face-to-face.

Their conversation was extremely professional, Joseph flinching when she touched his shoulder to ask if he was unwell.

_That_ wouldn’t do.

Hierophant had stamped home, ripping down the poster of Father de Bricassart in her room, kicking a few holes in the wall and moving her tantrum outside, to the nearest, lone wanderer in the night.

She was calm a few hours later. Calm and drenched in blood, but the important thing was that her head was now clear.

She knew she had to move in her chess piece now, or she’d lose her chance to keep her priest close.

Hierophant took meticulous care of her appearances on the following Tuesday, when confessionals were held. She’d spent a good hour in the mirror, perfecting her red lips, heavy eyelashes. With a black-veiled fascinator settled upon her head and a blood-red velvet dress hugging her form, she found her way into the confessional booth.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” she purred as she clasped her hands before her, knees settling comfortably on the plush, raised board before her.

She heard an audible intake of breath from the other side, her eyes briefly shutting as she savored the thrills pulsing through her body from that little inhalation alone.

“W-What…sins have you committed, m-my child?” Joseph managed to stutter from the other side.

“Well, I’ve…I’ve been on this world for twenty-eight years, father, and I’ve never found anyone who I’ve wanted to take care of, y’know? Sure, I have my cats, but…I found someone. I really, really want to take care of him and…and I can’t stop…thinkin’ of him…” her words grew heavier as she went on, a flush thrumming from her chest to her cheeks.

“W-What…kind of thoughts?”

“Well… _bad_ thoughts, Father. I imagine…showin’ him all the pleasures he’s never even experienced…imagine showin’ him how to make me scream and curl my toes ‘till they break…imagine lavishing every inch of his body with my mouth…”

She swore the church had air-conditioning, but she was sizzling in that tiny booth, her breaths coming out in heaves, her entire body itching to _move_.

“I…” Joseph’s voice fell silent with a squeak and Hierophant could wait no more.

She stood, quickly exiting the booth to open the door to his, falling to her knees before him and planting her hands on his knees. “ _Joseph_ ,” she pleaded in a soft breath, looking him over with big blue eyes. “I’ve been going _crazy_ ever since I met you. I just…I just wanna take care of you and make you feel better and hold you close to me and _never_ let you go, like…I’m fuggin’ _sorry_ I kissed you, but I _want_ you to be mine.”

It wasn’t as though he had a choice; there _were_ sedatives waiting in her purse if he tried to run.

With wide eyes, the priest looked her over for a moment before his shaking hands lifted to cup her face. “I… _fuck,_ I…I want to, I want…I want _you,_ ” he breathed, his thumbs rubbed against her soft cheeks. Her body tensed in excitement, even though she sensed the “but” to the sentence coming.

“… _but_ …I-I’m a priest I’m…I’m supposed to…”

She hardly heard the rest of his stuttering excuse as her eyes found the prominent bulge protruding from his crotch.

“You don’t need to worry anymore, Joseph,” Hiero crooned, a darkness settling in her pupils as she slowly, tediously slid her open palms up his thighs.

His body immediately stiffened in response, a quivering, gasp emitting from his throat.

“Let me take care of _everything_. I want to take care of you. I care _so much_ for you…every Sunday…every outfit…” she’d leaned up by now, her hands on his thigh and her mouth at his ear. “For _you_.”

One hand slid over the bulge straining against his black pants, her mouth ghosting against his earlobe. Immediately, his body untensed as he released a woeful cry, his arms instinctively wrapping around her torso and face buried in her neck.  
  
“ _Please_!” he cried, his entire body trembling against her, “I n-need it, please show me, show me how it _feels_. God be damned, I cannae…your…your mouth…fucking red lips…I’ve wanted them since you first had that fucking sucker in your mouth, _please_!”

She chuckled lowly as she drew back to look him over, softly offering his mouth to his for a messy, untrained kiss from the priest before sinking back to the floor. “Anything you want. I’ll _always_ give you it,” Hierophant assured, her hands deftly slipping his belt loose before hurriedly working at his pant buttons.

The moment his zipper was down, Joseph quickly lifted his hips and writhed from his pants and… _fuckin’ knew it, boxers._

His cock, now free from the constraints of his pants and undergarments, rested against his buttoned, black clergy shirt.

Hierophant was no expert, but his size was _perfect_. Thick and veiny and _so fuckin’ appetizing_. She extended a hand, trailing one, red-painted fingers down his shaft. The priest cried out in a mewl at the touch, his hips shunting upwards and face furling in the most adorable, arousing little whine.

“I know, baby, but a girl’s gotta get her bearings!” she softly scolded with a kiss to his bare knee. The blonde settled between his legs, her shins pressing down against his scrunched up pants, and was pleased to feel his knees clench around her body lightly as she trailed the tip of her nail against one of his bulging veins.

“I won’t last…” he managed in a grunt, Hiero giving a sarcastic roll of her eyes before moving in.

She wrapped her hand around his cock, drawing it from its resting place against his clothed stomach and couldn’t help but lean down to press her open mouth to the small, milky white dot it’d left against his shirt.

Hierophant rubbed his thigh as she suckled the stain from his shirt, the cloth soaked as she pulled back.

Finally, she dropped her mouth to his cock, the webbing of her fascinator tickling the bit of skin of his lower stomach exposed and making him writhe as her lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

Father MacAvoy quite literally _shouted_ , the hard press of his parishioners hand keeping him from bucking up into her mouth.

“ _Ah, fuck-shite-fuck_!” he wheezed as her tongue circled his head, a hand clumsily fumbling to remove the small hat atop her head so he could properly delve his fingers into those soft, blonde curls.

The woman gave a hum of approval at the unexpected touch, stiffening her tongue and pressing it into the small slit atop his head to earn herself another cry and buck from the man before sliding her mouth down into him.

Her tongue drug down against the underside of his cock with each centimeter consumed in her hot, needy mouth, Joseph’s grip tightening more and more in her hair by the second.

With a heavy breath through her nostrils, Hiero pushed herself until her lips pressed to the base of his cock. She remained still for a moment, savoring the feel of him invading her throat, making her want to choke, but also making her want to ride him into eternity, before she drew back.

She sucked so hard on her slow descent back up his cock that her cheeks ached, the priest babbling nonsense at this point, pleading for _more, more, more_.

And she delivered.

With no more teasing in mind, Hierophant set to the task, dropping her mouth down into his cock and dragging it back upwards in a steady bob, his hand guiding her to go harder, faster with each little bob.

Eventually, Hiero let go of his thighs and allowed him free reign, the priest bucking desperately up into her mouth and whining loudly all the while.

At this point, one of her hands had hitched up her skirts, frantically rubbing against her exposed cunt, her body thrumming with warmth alone just from the feel of his cock in her mouth.

Tears worked their way down her face from the subtle urges to gag each time his cock neared her throat, her fingers clumsily slipping against her clit from her soaked folds.

A few needy thrusts later and Joseph stiffened along with his balls, which Hiero’s other hand now cradled. She was quick to draw back enough in time for his spurts of seed to land against her tongue and not down her throat, allowing her to savor his taste as her own orgasm overwhelmed her.  
  
She drew back and leaned heavily against his leg as thrills of pleasure thrummed in waves throughout her body, the salty, musky taste of him sliding down his throat as she gave a delighted groan.

As she slowly withdrew from the haze of orgasm, she looked to Joseph, who sat in a slump, panting and trembling as he looked her over with adoring eyes.

Hiero smiled towards him before pushing back from him, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and admiring the red smears of lipstick on his softening cock. 

"I'm glad we did that," she murmured, pulling his pants and boxers back up and allowing him to buckle himself before crawling into his lap.

She said nothing, only pecked his lips and nuzzled against his neck as she curled up against him, listening to his thrumming heartbeat slow.

“You’re…” Joseph took a long, shaky breath, his hand running down her back. “You’re an angel.”

Hierophant moved her head to peer up at him, tears jumping into her eyes at one of the few, genuine compliments she’d ever heard. “You…You still wanna be with me?” she softly questioned, having feared he would abandon her after she’d opened the door to his pleasure.

Suddenly, Joseph had her face in his hands again, his eyes fiercely boring down into her face. “No… _no_. I want…I want everything you offered. I want _you_. I want to be with you, forever.”

Her heart gave a squeeze of relief, eyes full of nothing but love.

“Then we’ll be together, forever, father.”

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this in one sitting. 
> 
> Thanks to Kathie for peeking this over <3 
> 
> I loved writing this so much, Hierophant is such a fdsjifjdofi perfect baby and Joseph is such a fdjsifsidjfio woobie baby.


End file.
